


freely fly fly, i can breathe

by seoho



Category: ATEEZ (Band), ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Skating, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Polyamory, very like loose figure skating terminology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-22
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22844977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seoho/pseuds/seoho
Summary: seonghwa has lost his way and his passion. a trip to busan helps him find that and more.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Lee Seoho, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 13
Kudos: 91





	freely fly fly, i can breathe

**Author's Note:**

> title is taken from bolbbalgan4's travel, which is related to figure skating as well. 'travelling' is what they call moving while spinning.
> 
> this is 11k of me hiding my love for seoho as a seongjoong au. sorry ... i love him too much.
> 
> sorry for vague knowledge of figure skating. please don't flame me.

It’s hard, he thinks.

He’s spent all his life training for this moment, and yet, he feels no joy from it. nothing. just a tiredness in his heart, and a weariness in his soul.

That’s what figure skating has become to him. Just routine, working and perfecting his skates, and figuring out what the hell he’s going to do when he’s inevitably going to have to retire. Because that’s the thing about skating - you only ever do it for so long.

It's the off season, nearing the end, and his trainer recommended he take a small vacation. So that’s why he’s here, in Busan, even if it’s not the best.

Seonghwa… Well, Seonghwa just wants to find something to be passionate about. He used to love skating. Loved the feeling it would give him whether he won or lost. Now, even as he wins medal after medal, he can’t find it in himself to be anything more than relieved. 

He supposes his trainer hopes he’d find something here, in Busan. Maybe he would.

* * *

He wakes up in his hotel, swathed in blankets and on his back. He stares at the plain ceiling for a few minutes, before he rolls out of bed and heads into the bathroom to clean his face, brush his teeth and whatnot. Then, he puts on some jeans and a t-shirt, picks up his wallet and phone, and is out the door.

His hotel is near a beach. The ocean lapping at his ankles seems nice, even if it’s still a little cold. He’s spent his entire life in ice rinks, in cold climates. He can handle a few minutes of standing in ankle deep ocean water. Plus, it’s late July. He wouldn’t start seriously training for the Grand Prix until late August, early September, and he doesn’t even want to. There’s no song he wants, nothing he wants to put in it. And Wooyoung can’t help him make choreography if he has no ideas.

It’s warm, but not too warm. Busan is never hot, the cool of the ocean staving away the worst of the heat. He’s been to Spain in the heat of summer. He likes the cooler temperature of Busan and South Korea. It doesn’t feel like he’s suffocating.

His feet walk down the street, aimlessly wandering around. Being from Jinju, he would go to Busan often for training. He knows these streets almost as well as he knows Seoul’s, and he feels comfortable here. There’s a peace he thought he’d forgotten, but like many things, the city of Busan surprises him.

The city is just barely waking up, early in the morning. There are businessmen walking to work, teenagers going to school, and people out walking their dogs. Seonghwa is just one piece in the puzzle that is the city, but he likes that. Not being the focal point of someone. He blends in, and he doesn’t mind. He’s never been one to vy for attention. He would rather support from the background.

But he loves skating, or well, he used to. He’s got to be in the spotlight, or else he won’t be able to skate anymore. He’ll fade away quietly into nothingness.

Seonghwa sidesteps two children walking down the sidewalk, and ducks into a small convenience store. The man at the counter has some of his hair bleached, one part of his hair a stark white. He’s wearing a purple sweater under his work apron, and he’s watching a video on his phone. He hums quietly under his breath, but as soon as the bell of the door chimes, he straightens up immediately, sliding his phone under the counter like he’s done this thousands of times before.

“Hello, welcome to Sunrise Convenience Store!” he chirps, bright and cheery. Seonghwa raises his hand in greeting, before he makes a beeline towards the drinks. He eyes the bottles of pocari sweat, before he plucks out a bottle of milkis. It’s his vacation, and he’s going to spoil himself.

He stops off at the snack section to pick out a wrapped bread with cream filling, and heads up to the counter. The guy is tapping at his phone idly, playing a game with cats on the screen, but he looks up and waves Seonghwa forward.

“That’s all?” he hums, ringing up the two items with a spring in his motions. “It’ll be nine thousand won.”

Seonghwa pulls out a ten thousand won bill and hands it over. The cashier takes it and puts it in the register, pulling out Seonghwa’s change and holding it out.

“There you go. One thousand won,” he smiles, his dimples showing. “Have a good day!”

“You too.”

With his guilty pleasure snacks in his hand, he leaves the convenience store. Nothing else to do, he heads back to his hotel room, unwrapping the bread along the way and taking a bite.

He’ll watch some of his videos and think about what his freeskate should be. That’s what Yunho asked of him while he’s here after all.

* * *

It’s hard for him to sleep. He’s used to his bed at his apartment in Seoul, not this soft, luxurious hotel bed. He stares up at the ceiling, the room still dark, and he contemplates his life. His happiness, and lack thereof. It’s sad, he thinks. He’s apathetic about something that should be his pride and joy. And yet, he can’t bring himself to feel anything but tired.

He rolls out of bed. Maybe a walk will tire him out enough to sleep some more.

He doesn’t bother getting dressed. It’s too early in the morning for anyone to see him, and they’ll just have to deal with his plaid pajama set. He slides on his sandals while he’s at it, and heads out of his room.

Seonghwa takes a stroll down the beach. He's heard the sunrise is beautiful, so maybe that’s why he’s on his feet at four or five in the morning. as the first light of dawn peeks through the sky, he stands still. He watches as the sun slowly rises, the sky morphing into beautiful shades of pink and purple, and then… he sees a patch of red in the corner of his eye.

When he turns his head, he sees a man, shorter than him, smaller than him, with a head of soft red hair, and a sloping nose. He’s sitting on the beach, a laptop on his thighs, legs outward towards the waves. There’s a pair of earbuds in his ears, plugged into the computer, and he’s very contemplative. 

He’s… pretty. almost startlingly so. Figure skaters have to be visually attractive - that’s kind of in the job description - but he’s never … seen anyone like _him_. He’s beautiful. 

And, well, Seonghwa has never been straight. Or entirely socially aware, so when the man lifts his head from looking at the screen to turn right at him … he realizes he’s been staring. For, probably, a really long time.

The man’s face lights up, and he waves at him, his red hair making him look radiant. Seonghwa looks at him, a little amazed by the man’s beauty, before he shakes his head a little, blinking. 

Oh - and there the man is. Right in front of him, his laptop tucked under his arm. He’s so small. Short and cute.

“Hi!” he says, and even his voice is beautiful. “Are you new here? I've never seen you around.”

Seonghwa blinks more, kind of like a startled cat. “Um, yes. I’m here on vacation,” he says, more out of reaction than anything. He’s too startled by this man’s beauty to respond coherently.

The man takes it in stride, smiling. “I see! I live here. Have for a few years, at this point.” He tucks a little bit of red hair behind his ear, tilting his head too. “I’m Hongjoong. How about you?”

Finally, Seonghwa’s brain reconnects to his mouth and body. He can do it. Pretty boy. Easy. He’s talked to Nakamoto Yuta and Ten before. Easy.

“I’m Seonghwa,” he gives, holding out his hand for a handshake. Hongjoong takes it easily, shaking his hand with a firm grip. God, his hand is so small. Everything about this boy is cute. He feels so out of his element, it’s a little startling. This has never happened to him before.

Hongjoong beams up at him, his smile more radiant than the sun. It’s a little startling, but then his phone starts ringing, the tune of a popular song Seonghwa has heard on the radio, and the moment is broken.

The smaller man answers the phone, wincing as a garbled voice yells at him. “Oh. Mhm. Mingi, I’m going now. No I’m not dead. Yes, I’m going to sleep when I get home. Yes, I’ll text you when I get home. _No_ , you don’t need to buy me food to eat. Yeah. See you.” Hongjoong hangs up, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

“I’m really sorry, but I’ve got to go. Maybe we’ll see each other again,” Hongjoong offers, a little smile on his lips. “I’ll be here all week,” he jokes.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll… be here too. On vacation.” He scratches his head in a sheepish gesture. Hongjoong merely offers him a smile, a nod of his head, and he’s off into the slowly brightening city.

Seonghwa stands there.

Oh, fuck.

He might be in love.

* * *

After Seonghwa’s subsequent crisis in his hotel room at nearly six in the morning, he does go back to sleep. He doesn’t wake up until the afternoon, with the sun peeking in through his curtains, and his phone beeping.

Yunho has texted the group chat of him, Wooyoung and Yeosang. It’s just a short little message of their updates, and hoping Seonghwa is doing well in Busan. He texts back a quick little message saying he’s okay, before he plops back down into his bed to stare at the ceiling some more. 

He can’t stop thinking about that red haired man. Maybe it was love at first sight, because Hongjoong was gorgeous, and Seonghwa’s simple.

In another life, Hongjoong would’ve been a far greater skater than he was. His body proportions, his beauty… He’s ethereal, and Seonghwa could never compare himself to someone like that. He’s handsome, he knows, and he’s intelligent and skilled, but Hongjoong has an air around him that naturally draws people to him.

It drew Seonghwa to him, after all.

He decides to go out to that bingsu stand near the beach, the one he saw when he was coming to check in. It’s a hot day, after all, and he feels like eating something cold. And sending a picture to Wooyoung to tease him, because that’s what he likes doing.

He rolls out of bed, getting dressed in a pair of jeans and a light t-shirt. He brushes his teeth, combs down his hair, and shoves his wallet and phone in his pockets before he leaves.

He kind of expected an old lady to run the bingsu stand, but there’s actually a young looking guy with pretty eyes and lips. He’s wearing a beanie, and definitely not a uniform or anything, and Seonghwa figures he’s pretty handsome. There are some girls taking photos of him a few meters away, and he seems pretty used to it by the way he doesn’t bat an eye.

“Hey!” he says, an easy smile rising on his lips. “What can I get you?” The man leans a little on the stand, shifting his weight to rest mostly on one foot.

Seonghwa scans over the menu quickly, before he looks back at the man. “Oh. I’ll take … a normal patbingsu, I guess.”

The man smiles, nodding his head. “Yeah, good choice. Wait just a minute.”

He opens the latch at the top to a container of shaved ice, scooping out some and pouring the ice into a cup he pulled out from under the counter. He puts the scoop down, closing the latch again and setting the cup of ice on the counter. Seonghwa watches the man take out a bottle of red beans, scooping out some with a little spoon and placing it on the shaved ice. Finally, he squeezes out some condensed milk, and plucks out a spoon from another container, before he holds it out to the other.

“Here you go,” he hums. “Hope you like it, and make sure you come back to WeUs. We’re open here and we have some other locations in Busan, including a store.” The man wipes the counter down with a rag, before he drapes the towel over a bar on the side.

Seonghwa takes the bingsu, taking a bite. It tastes refreshing and sweet - everything one could want from a good bingsu. The man watches in amusement, almost as if he knew how much Seonghwa was enjoying it.

“... Do you work here all the time?” Seonghwa asks, hesitant about starting a conversation.

The man checks for customers, before he shakes his head. “Nah. Sometimes we change shifts, sometimes I’ll work the store. Usually the employees play rock-paper-scissors to decide who goes where. No one likes to run the carts very much, but I don’t mind, actually. It lets me meet new people.”

He seems very relaxed about the entire situation. Seonghwa finds it a little ridiculous that they play rock-paper-scissors to decide shifts, but... they _are_ Korean. Every decision can be decided by rock-paper-scissors.

Seonghwa takes another bite of his bingsu, idly eating while the other talks to him. “Your boss is okay with that?”

“Oh, yeah. We don’t really have a boss. Keonhee owns the place, but we all chip in and work. It’s more of a fun thing we like to do rather than our livelihood,” the other says, relaxed.

“It’s a fun thing? Then what do you do as a job?”

The man’s eyes light up at the chance to talk about his career. Seonghwa misses that spark about his own career. 

“I’m a composer and producer. I’ve helped make some songs for the band Onewe, and I’ve done some solo stuff,” he says, obviously much more invested in the conversation. “I’ve made some music for figure skaters, too.”

That catches Seonghwa’s attention. “Figure skaters? Like who?”

His face softens, and his smile melds into a sweeter, more sentimental one. It feels like he’s stepping into a private moment, except he’s the person being talked to.

“Lee Seoho. He’s one of my close friends,” he says. His voice changes the slightest bit, to something more tender, and it doesn’t slip past Seonghwa’s attention.

And he knows Seoho. He’s notorious for having one of the biggest differences between the rink and the rest of the world. Out of the rink, he’s a sweet, excited man, laughing and goofing around. He lights up any room he’s in. But as soon as he gets in the rink… it’s like a switch flips. His eyes gain an intensity and his face goes pristine. Seonghwa has watched a lot of his skates - always admires his musical expression and his performance scores. 

Seoho is stunning on the ice. What he lacks in technical skill, he makes up for in his incredible gestures, his smooth, fluid motions and his unparalleled interpretations.

Seoho’s head is always in his programs. Seonghwa still hasn't figured out how.

“I know him,” he says without thinking, and watches the other’s eyes narrow a little, before they go wide in recognition.

“Oh, shit. You’re Park Seonghwa,” he breathes, scratching the back of his neck. He seems a little awkward, but that’s probably because he almost poured his heart out to … one of Seoho’s rivals.

Seonghwa nods, a little awkward too. How does he come back from that?

“Okay, well, don’t tell him I said that. It’ll get to his head,” he sighs, shaking his head. “And he won’t stop bragging about us either. It’ll do him good to shut up sometimes.” And it sounds mean, but there’s definitely a fondness to his smile. Seonghwa knows that smile - it’s how Yeosang smiles when Wooyoung does something silly.

He’s not going to pry into their relationship too. But… he notes it down in his head.

“Oh, sorry. My name’s Youngjo. Figured I should tell you my name since I know yours,” the man, who he now knows is Youngjo, says like an after-comment. “You’re a long way from Seoul, Seonghwa-ssi. What brings you to sunny Busan so close to the start of next season?”

It’s a valid question. Seonghwa, by all means, should be practicing his quads for next season. And yet, because he has no soul in his skating, he’s come for a trip to the beach. Youngjo seems … well, trustable. He’s down-to-earth. So Seonghwa doesn’t feel too uncomfortable telling the truth.

“Searching for some passion,” he says, his shoulders dropping. “I need some life back in me. Even my manager says I don’t seem the same lately.”

Youngjo holds his chin, tilting down to think a little. “Yeah? And you think coming here will… help?”

Seonghwa shrugs, a little sigh leaving him. “I hope so. I don’t want to retire so early, but I don’t feel anything from skating anymore.” It’s the truth. He really doesn’t.

Youngjo makes a noise in understanding. “That’s how my friend felt. He thought every song he made wasn’t good enough. One of the worst creative ruts I’ve ever seen. But… he figured it out. So maybe he can help you,” he suggests. “He knows what he’s doing.”

Seonghwa figures it couldn’t hurt. He’s at his wits end, and he doesn’t know what to do either. He’ll give this guy a try. And if he doesn’t help, well.. he tried.

“I guess. I’ll do anything by now.”

The other’s face lights up, nodding. “Okay, I’ll give you his phone number and let him know. You guys can meet up at WeUs or something.” He makes wiggly fingers for Seonghwa’s phone.

He hands it over, and watches the black haired man type numbers into his phone, saving a contact, before he hands the phone back. 

“There it is! Just text him anytime, he’ll reply when he’s awake,” Youngjo gives a little laugh, amused.

Seonghwa nods, sliding his phone back into his pocket. Somehow, he’s filled with anticipation over his. “What’s his name?” he asks, so he knows what to call him.

“It’s Kim Hongjoong.”

It _can’t_ be the same person. But Hongjoong isn’t a very common name.

* * *

It is. 

He texted the number while reading a book, and when he put the book down, he found that Hongjoong had replied to him.

_joong: hi, yes, this is hongjoong. is this park seonghwa?_

_seonghwa: yes it is._

_joong: hi! okay, so, im pretty free all this week cause my vocalists have exams so we can meet up whenever you want!_

_seonghwa: how about … in two days? we can meet up at that weus place._

_joong: oh, youngjo’s! yeah we can meet there. is 15:00 okay?? itll take a little for me to get there from the studio._

_seonghwa: that’s fine. i’ll see you then._

_joong: cant wait!!!!! :D_

Hongjoong is adorable when texting, Seonghwa learns to find out.

* * *

Seonghwa arrives a little early, because he’s honestly a little nervous about meeting Hongjoong. They can't possibly be the same person - the man he met on the beach, and the man that's Youngjo's friened. When he enters the dessert store, a tall man with blue hair beams at him, showing the braces on his lower teeth. 

“Hi, welcome to WeUs!” he calls out from where he’s leaning against a counter, obviously in the middle of talking to the cashier with silver hair. Seonghwa raises one hand in acknowledgement, before he sits at a small booth to wait for Hongjoong to arrive. He also overhears their conversation, by virtue of the shop not being very loud.

“Where’s Dongmyeong, Dongju?”

“Youngjo-hyung needed him to record some piano in the studio, so he asked me to cover his shift today.”

“Oh? Giwook will be sad when he comes in after his classes,” the taller snickers.

He imagines the silver haired one rolls his eyes, or something along those lines. “Well, Giwook should confess already, because if I have to hear Myeong pine over Giwook one more time, I’m going to suffocate him with his own Doongdoongie.”

The blue haired one gives a loud laugh, the noise ringing through the shop. “Tell him that yourself, Dongju. 

“God, no. I don’t want to deal with Dongmyeong more than I have to,” the one Seonghwa figures is named Dongju says, “we’re already twins. I already have to share my birthday with him, much less my precious Dongmyeong-less space.”

Breaking Seonghwa’s half-concentration on this aimless conversation, the bell attached to the door rings. He hears the taller one chirp out a ‘hello, good afternoon!’ before he follows up with ‘oh, Hongjoongie!’ and Seonghwa turns his head to see the man, short red hair and piercings on each ear, walk in with a bag cradled against his chest.

“Hi Keonhee, hi Dongju!” Hongjoong greets, his smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. His head turns to look at Seonghwa, and his smile is radiant - if not, at least a tiny bit amused. "Oh, you must be Seonghwa, right? I thought you might be the same person... You have a very unique name." He walks over to Seonghwa, holding his hand out.

Seonghwa stands up so he can shake Hongjoong’s hand with a firm grasp, nodding his head. “Yes… Um, nice to see you again, Hongjoong-ssi,” he says almost nervously, his stomach full of flutters. He’s so nervous for nothing. This is just a simple meeting between two adult men. God, it’s like he’s in high school all over again.

“No need to call me Hongjoong-ssi,” he says, his bright smile softening to an easy grin. “Any friend of Youngjo-hyung’s is a friend of mine. Plus, we’ll probably be seeing a lot of each other.”

Seonghwa nods in response, a little bashful. “Yeah…” he trails off, unsure of what else to say.

Hongjoong takes it in stride, not even thinking twice about the hesitation Seonghwa is showing. “Did you buy anything yet? Here, get anything you want, my treat.” He’s looking at Seonghwa with expectation in his eyes, and Seonghwa balks.

“Oh, no, it’s alright. I can pay for it myself!” He worries, eyes furrowing. “You don’t have to…”

“No, I don’t. But I want to! Think of it as a second meeting gift,” the redhead smiles, turning around and walking to the counter without letting Seonghwa get in another word. He merely droops his shoulders and sighs, following after the smaller man.

Hongjoong reaches the counter, knocking on the glass top. The silver haired one, Dongju, straightens up, his pretty face straight. Maybe he doesn’t show much emotion, or maybe he’s just rather selective about it. Regardless, he looks passive. 

“Hello, Hongjoong-hyung. Your usual? Strawberry shaved snow?” He says, looking at the shorter expectantly.

“Mm, maybe! I’m going to let Seonghwa-ssi pick. I’m going to pay for him too, so don’t let him try to finagle his way into giving you money,” Hongjoong jokes, an easy smile on his face.

And Seonghwa, not really sure what to do, and also … _possibly_ wanting to see Hongjoong’s reaction when he eats it, picks strawberry. And, yes, Dongju really doesn’t let him even try to pay.

The guy named Keonhee is just snickering at him from where he’s making the snow ice.

Hongjoong leads him back to the table, sitting across from where Seonghwa had originally sat. He places his bag to his side on the bench, and shifts in his seat to lean forward and rest his crossed arms on the table. Seonghwa, on the other hand, sits awkwardly with his back straight ( good posture is important ), hands folded in his lap. 

“So -”

“Well -”

They stop, and Hongjoong blinks, before letting out a quiet little laugh.

“Sorry. You can go first.”

“No, no … it’s fine. Forgive me.”

The redhead smiles, shaking his head. “Well, alright. As you know, my name’s Hongjoong. I’m a music producer and composer at EDEN Entertainment. Youngjo-hyung said you needed my help?”

Seonghwa nods, his shoulders slumping a little. He feels reluctant to tell them his problem, but he knows from their little conversations, Hongjoong wouldn’t make fun of him. If he’s friends with Youngjo, at least.

“I’m … Park Seonghwa. I’m a figure skater. Youngjo-ssi said that you’d dealt with burnout before,” he says, sighing quietly. His demeanor is tired - and he is. Tired of being tired. “Well… I have that, but to the extreme. I’m a professional figure skater, and I… I just don’t have any spirit anymore. My manager and choreographer just say I’m going through the motions.”

Hongjoong nods slowly, his hand coming up to grasp his chin as he listens. Seonghwa idly thinks of how his hand is small, and wonders how it feels to hold it. And then he quickly shakes the thought out - this is a serious conversation, and Seonghwa needs to focus on it.

“I see,” Hongjoong starts, “well … honestly, I just found a muse. Something to inspire me to keep writing songs. It’s not about discipline, because I pushed myself to compose things even though I didn’t have the energy, it’s about having the emotions to feel things about what you’re doing.” He looks up, pointing one finger in the air like a eureka moment.

“That just means we have to find your muse!” 

…

Well, it doesn’t hurt to try.

* * *

They try a lot of things during the week. Hongjoong takes Seonghwa to Busan’s nightlife - that’s a bust. Seonghwa isn't really a fan of big crowds, nor people. They tried one of Busan’s beach festivals - also a bust. Seonghwa is too used to the cold of the ice rink. They even try meditation and yoga, which ends in Hongjoong basically falling asleep sitting up.

All in all, not very successful. Which brings them back to the place of their first meeting, the little patch of beach that is right in front of Seonghwa’s hotel.

Seonghwa pulls out a box of beverages, mostly non-alcoholic, and carries it out into the sand. He makes sure to keep his balance, padding with his sandals to the mess of benches that they’ve dragged into a haphazard square. 

In the middle is a ( controlled ) bonfire, Youngjo poking at the logs with a stick to make sure it stays contained in the boundary line they made out of little rocks. Other than him, there’s a guy with a strong nose ( Hongjoong whispers that his name is Harin ) setting out blankets, because it can get cold with the ocean wind, and a kid fiddling with the strings of a guitar.

Little notes fill the air as the boy tunes his instrument by ear, a pair of clear-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose. His hair is fluffy, curled and slightly ruffled by the wind. He’s cute, in a younger brother kind of way. But his fingers move quickly and skillfully across the neck of the guitar, plucking along chords and notes like it’s second nature. 

Seonghwa places the crate of drinks down by one of the benches, brushing his hands off. Hongjoong comes up next to him, a basket of assorted snacks in his arms to be placed down next to the drinks. Hongjoong sets them down, humming quietly.

“Everyone’s going to be here, so I hope it’s not too overwhelming for you, the redhead says quietly. “That includes Seoho-hyung and Geonhak-hyung, by the way. Youngjo-hyung told me to tell you.”

Seonghwa appreciates the warning. He and Seoho are acquaintances at best, and strangers at worst. They’ve never been very close, but Seonghwa has never been good at making friends either. It’s a blessing he has Wooyoung and Yeosang as is. Meanwhile, Seoho is always flitting through skaters like he was born to be social, a bright smile on as he greets everyone. He wonders how the other never gets tired of it.

“Thank you for letting me know, Hongjoong,” Seonghwa murmurs back, his eyes watching the boy strum a few chords before setting his guitar down on the bench to stand up and stretch. “It’ll be okay, I think. We’ve never been on bad terms.”

Hongjoong smiles up at him, following his sight to the boy.

“That’s Giwook. He’s Onewe’s bassist, rapper, and a producer at EDEN,” he supplies to help Seonghwa’s curiosity. “He’s the youngest in the company.”

Seonghwa gives a noise of understanding. That’s why he looks so young - because he is.

Hongjoong continues, “you’ll see him with Dongju’s twin, Dongmyeong. They’re basically inseparable. Seoho-hyung, Geonhak-hyung and Youngjo-hyung are usually a unit too. Harin, Hyungu and Yonghoon-hyung are usually watching in the back, because we’re a little out of control sometimes. Keonhee and Hwanwoong usually find someone to annoy together… or each other,” he laughs. 

Seonghwa cracks a smile too. They sound like the kind of people that Wooyoung and Yeosang would get along well with. Maybe he’ll come back when the season ends and bring them along to meet everyone. He’d like to come back, at least.

“Hey!” a voice calls, “I picked up Seoho and Geonhak from the station! And found some rascals on the way here.”

Seonghwa and Hongjoong turn to see a … large group of people. At the front is a tall man with black hair with a guitar case on his back ( “That’s Yonghoon-hyung,” Hongjoong whispers. ), and flanked by a blond with another guitar case. Behind the blond is Keonhee, carrying a large box in his long arms. Dongju and someone Seonghwa assumes is his twin, Dongmyeong, are playfully pushing each other like siblings do, squabbling over something probably insignificant.

There’s a short man with faded pink hair talking to a broad, blond man holding a duffel bag ( Seoho’s manager, his brain provides ), and next to them is - well, he knows that face anywhere.

Lee Seoho’s face is formed into a pretty smile as he gazes upon the rest of his entourage, a small suitcase in his hand. He’s dyed his hair - now it’s a stark black with strands of red. It looks good on him, but everything does.

The group comes closer, the two twins making a beeline for Giwook to probably harass him, though by the smile on his face, he’s definitely enjoying it. Harin comes over to Keonhee to take the box from him, smiling up at him and nodding his head. He sets it down at the end of one of the benches, gently brushing the top of it.

Geonhak pats Seoho’s back before trailing towards Youngjo, a smile rising on his face. And, to Seonghwa’s surprise, Seoho walks towards him with a smile.

“Seonghwa!” he greets, bowing to him. “When Youngjo-hyung told me you were coming, I was a little surprised. Did you come here on vacation?” He tilts his head, a sweet smile on his face.

If it were anyone else, Seonghwa would think it patronizing. But Lee Seoho is nothing if genuine.

“Yunho said I should take a little breather before the season starts and I really get into the groove of things,” he fibs. It’s a little white lie, but it’s close enough to the truth that it’s not suspicious. He’s not entirely comfortable telling Seoho the truth, especially with all these people around.

Seoho nods in understanding, beaming. “I get it! That’s why I’m here too. I don’t really get to see everyone once the season starts up, so we always try to get this bonfire in before that.” His eyes have scrunched into their signature eye-smile, the one that always captures the hearts of the audience.

“You do this every year?” Seonghwa asks.

Seoho nods, his smile softening. “They can’t really come up to see me all the time because of school and other things, so they get all of their ‘Seoho time’ in the few days Geonhak and I come down.” He gives a little laugh.

He doesn't know why people think that he and Seoho are rivals. In fact, he’s pretty sure Seoho could never have a rival in his whole life - people are just too endeared by him. And he's personally seen the difference, seen the true side of Seoho, rather than the media one.

But, again. Seoho is genuine no matter where he is.

“I hope you have fun, Seonghwa. Everyone here is really sweet and kind, even if we get a little rowdy,” Seoho says, giving another laugh. “Don’t be too insulted if Dongju and Dongmyeong prank you, or Keonhee screams when you scare him.”

Seonghwa cracks a smile, a small one, but a smile nonetheless. “I’ll try not to be,” he replies.

“I have to make sure they’re not killing Hwanwoong. It was nice to see you, though! And you should smile more often. It suits you.” With that, Seoho flits off towards a growing noisiness, surrounding a group of people trying to lift the pink haired man off the ground.

“Well, that went well,” Youngjo’s voice comes from the side. Seonghwa turns to look at him, and takes in the sandals and shorts he’s wearing, along with the black bucket hat on his head. “I thought there’d be a lot more yelling considering how the media portrays the both of you,” he jokes with a smile.

Seonghwa gives him a smile too, shaking his head a little. “The media always plays us up.” He doesn’t say much more than that. 

The truth of the matter is, when they were younger, just fledgling senior circuit skaters … they had dated. It’s a well kept secret, only known to them and their managers, but… 

They dated. And their scheduling conflicts, as well as Seoho’s rink having been in Busan at the time… they had grown apart and mutually separated, no hard feelings. It had been a little awkward for a while, and that awkwardness is what kickstarted their fake rivalry. The media saw their sudden distance and figured that they were becoming rivals.

Seonghwa isn’t mad about it. He’s had a long time to get over it, and he has. It seems Seoho has too, and that makes him relieved.

“Mm, yeah. Seoho’s said that too. He thinks it’s kind of funny that they keep putting you guys against each other,” the elder hums, looking over at where the man is, cooing over Dongju and poking his cheeks. “I’m glad the conversation went well, at least. It’s important to him that you like him.”

Seonghwa wonders why. They haven’t talked past polite greetings for years. 

“Huh, really?”

Youngjo nods. “Yeah. Oh - hey, looks like the guys are finished setting up. Come on, let’s grab a seat before everyone takes them.” He tilts his head towards the gathering of benches.

Seonghwa nods, following after him.

He ends up sitting next to Hongjoong, near the end of a bench. Hongjoong probably could sense that he wouldn’t be too comfortable sitting next to anyone else, which he appreciates.

Youngjo, on the other hand, is pulled in between Geonhak and Seoho, laughing. Dongju sits on the other side of Geonhak, leaning towards Giwook and Dongmyeong, who are sitting next to each other with Harin on the other side of Dongmyeong, sitting on the large box. Belatedly, Seonghwa realizes it’s a drum.

Yonghoon and Kanghyun are taking a bench with their guitars out, Keonhee and Hwanwoong fighting at the other end. There’s various snacks and drinks spread around, and Seonghwa pulls out a bottle of cola to drink.

Hyungu is idly strumming guitar chords as the others chatter with each other. But his melody becomes stronger, and Yonghoon follows along with a counter melody. Sweet singing comes, and the chattering dies down to humming along and swaying back and forth.

Yonghoon sings a saccharine melody, Dongmyeong easily harmonizing with him. And watching this, Seonghwa can tell that there’s so much harmony between each and every one of them, and he feels lucky to be able to witness it. It’s raw, no editing, no processing, and it feels so much more personal like this.

He understands why they’re such a powerful group. They’re not only talented, but they are in tune with each other. They love what they’re doing.

Hongjoong’s watching them with sparkling eyes, a small, fond smile on his face. He’s clapping along quietly, brushing against Seonghwa’s side with each sway. Seonghwa looks at him, seeing his face illuminated by the firelight, and he thinks Hongjoong is beautiful. He is.

The members of Onewe go through more songs, each as wonderful and amazing as the last. And with each one, he’s simply mesmerized by the amount of spirit and passion in each member’s eyes. They’re in love music, in what they’re chasing after. It’s not only their livelihood, it’s their lives.

Seonghwa wonders when he lost it. When skating stopped being his life.

In his distraction, the music had quieted, a comfortable pause taking its place. There’s a bit of shuffling, people moving back into sitting positions from where they were laying on top of each other, or against each other, and even Hongjoong pulls the blanket tighter around him and straightens up.

Giwook strums a little note, before nodding at Harin. Harin starts drumming out a simple beat, and almost like clockwork, the three guitarists start playing, fingers and guitar picks moving across strings. 

To Seonghwa’s surprise, it’s not any of the band that starts singing, but Geonhak. His voice is low and smooth, surprisingly easy to listen to. 

The song is upbeat, but the lyrics are melancholy, contemplating their lives and decisions. But as the chorus hits, there is hope within them, about walking alongside someone.

_“It was you who have helped me stand up.”_

Seoho’s voice rings out, sweet and gentle in the night, and Seonghwa is stricken. He’s known Seoho sings beautifully, but hearing it again does things to his heart, even though he knows he’s long over him. 

“I want to love you, love you once again,” he sings, his eyes soft as he looks at - _oh._

Seonghwa has a sudden realization. Things make sense.

Everyone here has so much talent, he thinks. And Seoho melds so well with them, he wonders what would have happened if he didn’t decide to follow skating. He wonders if Seoho would be the vocalist of a group like Onewe. If he would be an incredible soloist instead.

Seoho singing the last words of the song must have some sort of meaning, because when he looks at him, he doesn’t feel anything.

But he turns to look at Hongjoong, and he understands everything.

* * *

He opens his phone the next morning to see Hongjoong’s text.

_joongie: (address sent.)_

_joongie: go here at 15:00!!! trust me!!!_

Well.

Hongjoong could ask him to stub his toe and he would, so Seonghwa takes a shower and gets ready. Forty minutes before he has to be there, he leaves his hotel and gets on a bus and rides to the nearest stop. Following Google Maps, he walks down a few streets before he stands in front of …

A… dance studio?

Seonghwa thinks it’s a little strange, but Hongjoong has been nothing but sincere in his efforts to help him, so he trusts him. And Wooyoung is a dancer too, and owns his own dance studio in Seoul, so he’s not a stranger to them either.

He walks in, pushing the door open. There’s a girl at the front desk reading a magazine, and at the chime of the bell, she looks up. Her hair is dyed pink, cut in a bob that reaches her shoulders. She sits up, gesturing him forward.

“Hey, welcome to Horizon Dance Studio. You have a timeslot?” She asks, glancing down at the list of written reservations.

Seonghwa hesitates. “For… Hongjoong, maybe?”

She clicks her tongue, nodding and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Oh, yeah. San’s in studio eight, like usual. It’s right down the hall, a few doors down, to the left.” She tilts her head towards the hallway.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, bowing his head to her before he starts down the hallway. There’s many doors - each with little windows that peek into the dance studios. Some have people in them, some don’t - including a tall red haired man running through some steps with the pink haired boy from the bonfire.

Huh. Does everyone in Busan know each other, or something?

He reaches studio eight, peeking in through the window to see a black haired man performing what looks to be difficult choreography. He tilts his head and - wait, where has he seen that patch of bleached hair? Oh, wait a minute. It’s the guy from the convenience store, except he seems completely different. His gaze has an intensity that leaves him with goosebumps, and the movements he goes through makes him seem boneless. It’s intimidating.

Seonghwa knocks on the door, seeing the man stop, before he opens and pokes his head into the room.

“Um… hello?”

“Oh, hi!” The man says, a bright smile rising on his face. It’s a stark difference from how he was a few seconds ago, and it reminds him a little of Seoho. This man, however, has dimples too. “You’re the guy from the convenience store… did Hongjoong-hyung tell you to come here?” He tilts his head, and now Seonghwa is reminded more of a curious cat than anything else.

“He did. I’m Park Seonghwa…” he trails off, holding out a hand in greeting. The man grabs his hand and shakes it, nodding.

“I’m Choi San. He asked me to help you, so help you I shall!” San says, nodding his head again with a determined look. 

“... Okay. So, what are we going to do?”

“Well, the first and most important thing is to always stretch!” He explains, plopping down onto the ground. “So… come on. Follow my lead.”

San leads him through some basic stretches, touching his toes, and some more complex ones like simple dances to warm up his joints. Seonghwa, despite having great balance due to being a figure skater, is not much of a dancer, no matter how he pretends to be in the shower. 

And yet … it’s nice. He likes experiencing something new, but not too difficult. San doesn’t try to teach him anything complex, merely puts on a compilation of chorus choreos, and they have fun together, dancing along even if they don’t know all the movements. It’s more fun than Seonghwa has had in a long time, dancing to TWICE and IZONE.

They end up sitting on the ground, San rolling an unopened bottle of water to him. Seonghwa opens it, and takes a big gulp, trying to dab away his sweat with his shirt. San has rolled up his shirt sleeves to his shoulders, and he has a sweet smile.

“Did you have fun?” He asks, though it’s probably obvious by the way both of them are a little out of breath. 

Seonghwa nods, a smile on his face too. “I did. Is that what you normally do?”

“Sometimes. Every last Friday of the month, instead of doing an actual practice, we have a fun hour long practice where we just dance random choruses,” San explains, taking a drink of water. “Of course, it’s a little break for the professional dancers too, but we usually work a lot harder so it’s nice to have it. It’s not mandatory either!”

Seonghwa blinks, nodding more. Dancing just for fun … He can’t remember the last time he skated for fun. It’s always been practicing his quads, or working on his technique, or running through his programs. He’s never just … skated.

“Oh! Wow, it’s gotten pretty late,” the other says as he checks his phone. “My roommate is probably expecting me at home. Hey, if you ever want to come back here, you can just say you know me, Mingi or Hwanwoong. Ryujin or whoever will let you through.” He beams, rolling over to pick up his bag. “I hope this helped, Seonghwa-hyung. See you later!”

Seonghwa waves, watching San leave through the door with a spring in his step. Despite the surprise… it was fun.

Maybe… he’s on to something.

* * *

He makes a call to a number he hasn’t looked at in a long while.

Wednesday, sixteen o clock.

* * *

It feels like it’s been forever since he’s done this.

He sits on a bench, lacing up his pair of skates. His skating pants and trainer jacket feel like a comforting shell rather than a trapping, and when he stands up with his skate guards, it feels like … home, for once.

It feels freeing.

He walks up to the rink, his balance steady. He gets to the gate of the arena, and slips off his guards to put them on the rink wall. With one quick motion, he pushes onto the ice.

He skates around a bit, the familiar sound of his blades scraping the ice filling the quiet. They’re easy, practiced motions, more at a casual pace rather than the speed he’d use for his programs. Instead of being pressured, he glides around the ice in a casual, composed manner. He’s almost aimless with his direction, letting his feet and body guide him across the rink.

He does a few spins as he travels, eyes closing. He may have never skated in this rink before, but it feels the same regardless. This is the rink Seoho used to use after all - he knows that the man’s judgement is right when it comes to ice rinks.

Before he knows it, his speed has risen, and he’s skating with speed more similar to a figure skater. He twists, digs his toe pick into the ground and lifts off, his body instinctively bringing his arms into his chest. Seonghwa feels himself soaring, his heart along with his body, and he feels lighter, freer than he has in months.

He lands on the outside edge of his skate, the momentum causing his body to glide backwards with his arms outstretched. His eyes are closed again, before he slowly skates to a stop in the middle of the arena, lowering his arms to his side.

There’s clapping, and Seonghwa turns to face the person.

It’s been a long time since he’s seen Seoho in his practice outfit, but it’s kind of surprising how it hasn’t changed. Seoho still wears the same style of black training pants, and still wears a turtleneck under a black trainer.

( _“Why always black?”_

 _“‘Cause it’s easier to match colors with, duh! Nothing clashes with black.”_ )

He’s smiling a soft smile, his skate guards already placed carefully next to Seonghwa’s. Seoho steps onto the ice, skating forward with easy grace, slowing down as he gets closer to the younger.

“That was incredible,” he says, looking up at Seonghwa with bright eyes.

Seonghwa doubts that - it wasn’t even anything special. Just a triple lutz. Compared to the more difficult jumps he does, or the pretty combinations that other skaters do, it’s just rather simple.

But Seoho’s eyes are glittering like he’s seen the most amazing thing in the world, and Seonghwa finds himself believing him. He has that kind of air about him, always supportive and sweet and eyes wide in amazement. Always genuine.

Seonghwa is surprised with how at ease he feels sharing the same space as Seoho. Of course, they’ve had warm-ups together, and been in the same waiting room, but nothing where they are next to each other. But he looks at Seoho, and doesn’t feel discomfort.

“Will you skate with me?”

( _“Will you skate with me?”_

 _“Always.”_ )

* * *

_Seonghwa and Seoho met in Junior practices. Age ten and twelve respectively, Seonghwa’s mother had brought him to Seoho’s practice to speak with the elder’s coach. They would be discussing a coach change for Seonghwa, while Seonghwa was … well, supposed to sit there, or skate._

_He picked the second one. He’d never choose sitting still over skating - or, well, younger Seonghwa wouldn’t._

_He skates forward, almost falling on his face if it weren’t for a pair of arms catching him._

_“Woah! Are you okay?” his savior asks, tilting his head._

_Seonghwa gets back onto his feet, looking at the person who stopped his fall. He’s taller, has a chubby face and straight black hair pushed back by a headband. His face is curious, and looks over Seonghwa in concern._

_“Oh - I, I’m fine,” a young Seonghwa says, shy. Even at age twelve, Seoho was handsome._

_“I’m Seoho! Are you here to practice with me?”_

_“N - no. My mom wanted to talk to your coach…” Seonghwa shuffles his skates a little, hands behind his back._

_Seoho’s mouth opens into a little ‘o’ when he processes the information. “Oh! So you could be my rink mate? I’d have such a cute dongsaeng…” He beams, his eyes scrunching into what would become a famous eye-smile._

_Seonghwa nods, a little surprised at the enthusiasm. He would soon learn that this is just who Seoho is._

_The elder grabs his hand, beaming. “Skate with me! Let’s get to know each other. We don’t have to go too fast if you don’t want to.”_

_He nods, a little overwhelmed, but not necessarily in a bad way. “O - okay.”_

_And off they went, hand in hand._

* * *

“You should go for it.”

Seonghwa looks up from where he’s capping the lid back onto his water bottle, seeing Seoho leaning against the barrier of the rink. His water bottle is open in his hand, and he takes a little sip.

“Go for what?” Seonghwa asks, a little confused.

“With Hongjoong,” Seoho says patiently. “I’m sure he feels the same way.”

Seonghwa almost drops his water bottle in shock, looking at Seoho with surprise. The other man just laughs quietly, a simple smile on his face. He shakes his head a little, looking at Seonghwa with bright eyes.

“It’s kind of obvious, but maybe that’s because I know you,” he says, amused. “But I think he likes you back. He seems pretty attached to you.”

Seonghwa feels his face heat up, embarrassed to be figured out so easily. But Seoho, despite what popular media likes to believe, is very intuitive. He picks up on other peoples’ emotions easily, and empathizes with them. Seoho is pretty smart when it comes to matters of the heart, much more so than Seonghwa is.

“I don’t know…” he replies hesitantly, his fingers fiddling with the strap of his bottle. “I don’t want to lose our friendship.”

Seoho shakes his head. “Hongjoong’s not that kind of person. He’d never let something like that get in between you guys. He values your company, especially if he let you come to our bonfire.”

The way Seoho speaks with such easy conviction is a little startling - Seonghwa doesn’t know how he can be so confident about it. But he sees the way the other’s smile softens, his eyes going gentle.

“You always were so hesitant,” he says, his voice soft. Seoho reaches out, grabbing his hand with both of his and running his thumb over the back of Seonghwa’s, like he used to do when they were dating. “If you never take a chance, you’ll never know how he truly feels.”

Seoho gives him a little reassuring smile, and Seonghwa remembers why he fell in love. It’s hard not to, but Seoho had always understood him without him having to say any words. They were good for each other. Were.

“I’m sorry,” Seonghwa says quietly, and he means it. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder back then.”

Seoho gives a quiet little laugh. “It wasn’t only you, Seonghwa. I was to blame too. So I’m sorry.” He drops Seonghwa’s hand, taking a step back. “Maybe we were never meant to be.” His smile turns wistful, and his eyes drift away to look at the wall for a second. “But I’ve found my happiness, Hwa. It’s time you did too.”

Seonghwa is always, always surprised by Seoho. The way he always knows what to say, and the way he’s always so supportive. The next words come as a surprise - but he realizes … he’s wanted to say them for a long time.

“I missed you,” he blurts out, eyes wide.

Seoho lets out a little laugh, smiling back. “I missed you too. We were a couple of idiots back then, huh?”

Seonghwa cracks a smile too, nodding. “We were… But it worked out in the end, eventually.”

Seoho nods, picking up his skate guards. “I probably won’t see you again until competition season so… good luck, okay? Tell Hongjoong how you feel.”

“I will.”

* * *

“Hi, I’m here to see Kim Hongjoong? My name is Park Seonghwa…” he trails off, running a hair through his black hair.

There’s a glimmer of recognition in the receptionist’s eyes, and she nods quietly. “I see. I’ll get someone to take you.” She reaches for the phone.

“No need, I’ll take him,” an increasingly familiar voice rings out. Seonghwa turns to see Youngjo, bucket hat and all. He has a pair of round glasses on, with a jean jacket. “Hey. Hongjoong told me you’d be coming.”

Seonghwa nods, scratching the side of his head. “Do you know why? He wouldn’t tell me anything…”

Youngjo gives him a secretive smile, leading him to the elevators in the lobby. “Oh, I know why. But he’d kill me if I spoiled the surprise.” He presses the down button, leaning against the wall. “He worked pretty hard on it. Never saw him work so hard and so fast.”

Seonghwa furrows his eyebrows, wondering what Hongjoong wants to show him. The elevator dings, and they enter. Youngjo presses the button to the first basement level, and hums quietly to himself. It’s a song he’s never heard, but it’s a sweet melody, if not a bit melancholic. He just assumes it’s one of the other’s projects that he’s working on, and doesn’t ask about it.

When the elevator door opens, Youngjo steps out and Seonghwa follows. He leads them down a corridor of music studios, stopping at one.

“This one’s Hongjoong’s usual one,” he says, gesturing to the heavy wooden door. “Just knock on it. If he doesn’t answer, he’s probably too focused on his music, so you can just go in.” Seonghwa nods in response, and Youngjo gives an easy smile back.

“I’ve gotta get back to my own work, so I’ll be leaving you here. Be easy on him, ‘kay?” With that, Youngjo ducks into a studio across the hall, one that has the word ‘RAVN’ written on the door with silver paint and a little doodle of three animals.

Seonghwa knocks on the door, waiting a few seconds, before he quietly pushes the door open. He sees Hongjoong sitting at his desk, his hand clicking the mouse. Hongjoong has a headset over his beanie, and he’s wearing a big hoodie that covers most of his hand. 

“Hongjoong?” He calls out, seeing the other’s head bob in rhythm to whatever music he’s working on. At the lack of response, he walks over to tap on the smaller one’s shoulder, jolting back as Hongjoong whirls around.

“Oh, Seonghwa!” he says, taking off his headphones and smiling wide. “I didn’t hear you! Come, sit.” He tugs over a chair, patting the seat.

Seonghwa comes, turning the seat so he can sit down in it. He slides the chair forward a little, leaning towards the computer. Hongjoong unplugged his headphones, turning to the other with a bashful look on his face.

“I was inspired by Youngjo-hyung… so I made a song that you could use for your program,” he says quickly, cheeks pinking. “I, uhm, I hope you like it.”

Without giving Seonghwa a chance to say anything, he plays the song. Seonghwa listens attentively, both to the melody and the lyrics of the song. He’s kind of amazed - Hongjoong’s talented, and the song is incredibly emotional. He’s a little shocked. Hongjoong wanted to make a song for _him?_ He doesn’t think he’s anything special.

_“When I think of you, my eyes glitter with happiness. ”_

He almost wants to cry. He doesn’t think that he deserves a song this beautiful, but … Hongjoong is looking at him like he holds all the galaxies in his eyes, and he can’t deny it. 

Hongjoong opens his mouth to speak, but Seonghwa’s brain goes before he can stop it.

“I think I love you.”

  
  


…

Oh, god, he really said that out loud. He stares at Hongjoong with wide eyes and Hongjoong stares back, cheeks red. They’re both at a loss for words, Seonghwa out of embarrassment and Hongjoong out of surprise. He doesn’t know how to respond, other than the sinking feeling in his gut that Seoho was wrong.

But…

“Y… you do?” Hongjoong asks, surprise and hesitation clear on his pretty face. It’s almost as if he can’t believe that Seonghwa would actually love him.

The black haired man nods, swallowing a lump down his throat. He feels as if everything is on the line here - even more so than any competition he’s ever been in. Hongjoong is worth more to him than any medal, and he doesn’t want to lose him.

“I… I do. I think I really do,” he says honestly, lowering his gaze. He feels exposed, raw, and he’s never been excellent with his emotions, so now he feels even more vulnerable.

Hongjoong stares at him more, and Seonghwa shifts uncomfortably. He doesn’t want to lose this friendship, but it’s not looking too bright.

Seonghwa closes his eyes, hanging his head a little. “I’m sorry, I’ll just …” He moves to get up from the chair and leave, but a petite hand shoots out and grabs his wrist. He looks to see Hongjoong pulling him back, a determined look on his face.

“Do you really mean that?” He asks, his voice wavering a little.

Seonghwa merely nods his head, cheeks pink and nervousness thrumming through his veins. “I… I do. I don’t know if it’s forever, but… I want to be with you. You’ve changed me. You’re so good and sweet and … everything.” He sighs, his hand coming up to rest on top of the other’s.

Hongjoong looks at Seonghwa, an unreadable expression on his face, before the redhead crumbles, his forehead resting against their hands. “Thank god,” he laughs weakly, sounding choked up. Seonghwa looks down at him in alarm, wanting to comfort him.

“Youngjo told me I should go for it - hell, he even helped me compose it,” Hongjoong laughs again, his voice watery. “I didn’t know if he was right or not, but I figured I had to try even if I could lose you.” Hongjoong lifts his head and Seonghwa sees that his eyes are a little glassy and his face is red. He’s almost crying.

Seonghwa pulls his arm out of Hongjoong’s grasp, his hands coming to cup the other’s cheeks. Hongjoong is beautiful no matter what he looks like, and he wipes the other’s tears away with his thumbs. 

“Don’t cry,” the black haired man whispers. “Don’t cry, Hongjoong. I’m here. I won’t leave.”

Hongjoong sniffles, his hands coming up to rest on the taller’s shoulders. “‘m not crying…” he mumbles, ducking his head. In response, Seonghwa pulls his face back up to see him clearly.

He really likes Hongjoong. Even if it’s only been a week and some, he likes Hongjoong so much, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. And so, the next question feels natural to him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks quietly, brushing his thumb over Hongjoong’s cheek. Hongjoong nods.

He leans in, sweetly pressing his lips against the other’s in a gentle kiss. When Seonghwa goes to move away, Hongjoong wraps his arms around his neck and pulls him back in for another one, tilting his head.

They move away, both of their faces flushed. Seonghwa is a little embarrassed, but absolutely giddy. Hongjoong has a smile on his face, and he looks radiant.

“Kim Hongjoong… will you be my boyfriend?”

“I thought you’d never ask, Park Seonghwa.”

* * *

It feels too soon, having to go back home to Seoul. But, he can’t delay his training any longer, and he has to make sure Yeosang hasn’t killed Wooyoung yet. It’s bittersweet, having to leave Hongjoong so soon after they actually got together, but … He can’t wait to start choreographing the song that Hongjoong wrote him. And that means going back to his home rink.

He’s at the airport, ready to take a very short flight back into the capital. Hongjoong has come to see him off, his red hair peeking out of a beanie. Youngjo is there too, waving lazily. But to his surprise, Mingi and San have also come to bid him farewell, bright smiles on their faces.

Seonghwa leans down a little, pressing a sweet kiss to Hongjoong’s lips. “You’d better respond to my messages,” he jokes quietly, siling down at the other.

Hongjoong laughs, his eyes scrunching up. “Of course, you dummy.” He pushes the taller slightly. “You’d better not spend too much time in the rink.”

Seonghwa smiles, lowering his hand to caress the back of Hongjoong’s with his thumb. “You make sure to get some sleep in between recording sessions. If I hear from Youngjo that you aren’t taking care of yourself, I’ll fly back down here and do it myself.”

Hongjoong shakes his head, but his lovely smile remains. “I’ll try, I’ll try. Now go, you’ll miss your flight.”

Seonghwa tugs his mask over the bottom half of his face, nodding. “I’ll miss you, Joongie.”

“Miss you too, Hwa. Hurry back soon, okay?” Hongjoong says, dropping his hand.

“Of course.” He leans down to give the other one final peck on the lips, before he turns away to board his plane.

Back at home, it’s a flurry to get things done. He and Wooyoung go over the choreography, Yeosang has to finalize his skating outfits, and Yunho makes phone calls to make deals with sponsors and other coaches. 

The first competition is the Japan Open in October. Before the Grand Prix starts, and long before Nationals, or the Championship circuit. He’s got a lot of practice to get in.

If Wooyoung and Yeosang comment about how much more alive he is, that’s none of their business.

* * *

The outfit Yeosang designed for him is beautiful.

A tight white and black top with billowing sleeves. The collar is white, progressing in a gradient to black by the hem of his pants, with sparkles to represent stars. That’s his theme - stars. He’ll be their shining star on the stage, but most of all, he’ll be Hongjoong’s shining star. 

The design goes well with the spins he has planned for his travelling time, and the jumps that he and Wooyoung have strategically placed. It’s a matter of practicing now, and making sure everything is perfect for when he and Seoho clash on the ice.

* * *

Seoho doesn’t come to the Japan Open, likely biding his time until the Grand Prix starts. They’ll face off at Skate Canada, but they only share one event this time until the Grand Prix Final in December. That means he’ll only have to fight for first with him once in the next few months.

Seoho’s song is melodic, but Seonghwa has a feeling that there’s more than it seems. His shirt is similar to Seonghwa’s, but instead of a gradient to black, it’s accented with red, a ribbon tied around his neck and another winding up his left forearm. It fits the song well enough, but it’s not perfect like usual. At Skate Canada, Seoho takes second, and Seonghwa takes first.

They meet after the Kiss and Cry, a black cat plushie in Seoho’s arms.

“Seonghwa!” He beams, the red streaks in his hair having been re-dyed. He shifts, tucking the cat under his arm. “How have you been doing? Did it go okay with Hongjoong?”

Seonghwa feels his cheeks pinken, but he nods. “It did… we’re dating now,” he reveals bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. Seoho seems elated, by how he bounces up and down in place.

“Ah! I’m so happy for you!” the other says with complete sincerity. “I told you it’d work out!”

Seonghwa laughs, nodding. “You did,” he admits. “Thank you for the push … I’m really happy.”

Seoho nods in affirmation. “You seem like it,” he says, his smile softening. “You seem really happy. You’ve changed so much already…”

He shifts a little, holding his red fox tissue case in his arms. “I don’t think so… but I guess if you say so, it has to be true.”

Seoho laughs quietly, looking back to where Geonhak is calling for him. “I’ve got to go. See you at the finals, yeah?” He holds out his hand.

Seonghwa shakes it, smiling back. “See you.”

* * *

Seoho does have something up his sleeve.

He does the same free program at the finals, getting second behind Ten, with Seonghwa in third. He wants to know what Seoho is planning, but trying to figure out what the other is thinking is like trying to read Hangul when you’re blind.

And … well, he finds out at the South Korean Championships.

Seoho’s free skate the last few months had only been a replacement while he finalized the real thing, pulling it out for when it really mattered. After all, Seoho has been the Korean Champion for the last two years. And it’s right before the start of the ISU Championship series starts too. Seonghwa knows he’s going to wow the crowd, and ironically, Seoho is last too.

He feels a little relieved that he’s not going after him, at least.

He steps onto the ice, skating around a little to get the feeling of the ice before he skates into position at the center of the rink. He puts his hand by his face, the other by his side, and waits for the music to start.

The first notes twinkle out, and he moves into action, long flowing limbs matching the melody of the song. The light catches on the sparkles of his skirt, making his clothing glow like a canvas of the stars.

Hongjoong wrote this song for him. He’s going to perform it the best he can.

He pours his heart and soul into it, pushing every bit of love he has for Hongjoong into his skating. His strides are long, his jumps are landed, and his expression stays calm and collected. There’s a fluidity to his movements, a spirit that hadn’t been there last season, and he feels like he’s flying, freer than he’s ever felt before. It’s like the shackles of his apathy have finally left him.

Seonghwa’s free skate is technically perfect like always. He gets a lot of points for his execution and his skating skills, and his performance is surprisingly higher than usual. It’s a personal best for him. He feels … incredibly happy seeing it, actually, sitting at the Kiss and Cry with Yunho.

He pumps his fist a little, smiling brightly. He’s proud that his relationship with Hongjoong has been going steady, and that the result has been showing in his skating. The trip worked, but most importantly, Hongjoong worked.

Seonghwa goes into the audience to watch Seoho’s performance, intent on watching him. They’re always fighting for first place. But … more importantly, he’s curious. He wants to know what Seoho’s been saving.

The song he skates to is slow. At the first piano note, Seoho moves into motion. Seonghwa is struck with a sense of realization - that’s _Seoho’s_ voice. And Geonhak’s, and Youngjo’s, and the others. It must be a song that Youngjo composed.

Seoho’s face is soft, his eyes closed as he spins. He’s the picture of grace and ethereal beauty, the ribbon attached to his neck flowing behind him with every motion. He’s outdone himself this time, performing so well that there’s no separation between the song and him. He skates with a fragility and a vulnerability that’s difficult to replicate.

_“I’m coming to meet you now along the red thread.”_

Seoho finishes, left arm stretched out in front of him, like he’s reaching for someone. 

The arena bursts out in applause, and Seoho smiles brightly, bowing down to each section. There’s small cat plushies being thrown on the ice, and helpers skate out to grab them and take them away. Seoho skates off, meeting Geonhak by the exit, slipping on his skate guards and jacket.

Seoho sits down at the Kiss and Cry booth, taking a drink of water. Like Seonghwa, he’s carefully watching the screens to see his score.

Seoho’s score beats his by a small margin - he wins first, and Seonghwa wins second. He’s not very upset - he’s gotten more from this season than he ever thought.

They skate up to the podium together, Seoho stepping up first with Seonghwa and third place Jaemin’s help, and then he helps the both of them up as well. The officials put the medals around their necks, and hand Seoho a bouquet of flowers, and Seonghwa thinks that’s it … until a loud, boisterous cheer rings out as they bow.

Both Seoho and Seonghwa turn their heads to see … a large mass of people, including both a black haired man wearing a bucket hat, and a red haired man with large round glasses.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Seoho beam, his smile bright. Seonghwa feels one come to his lips too as he looks at Hongjoong, who looks at him with bright, starry eyes, pride written all over his face and his stature. They’re dismissed from the podium, and Seonghwa slowly skates over while Seoho launches himself forward at the fastest speed he can while still being safe.

He crashes into Youngjo, who surprisingly doesn’t fall over. Like Seonghwa figured, Seoho plants a sweet kiss on the taller, both of them smile. And, to Seonghwa’s surprise, Seoho turns his head and kisses Geonhak too. Their gazes for each other are soft and private, and Seonghwa finds the missing piece of the puzzle click together in his mind.

But before he can dwell on it any further, a hand waves in front of his face, and he looks to see Hongjoong in front of him, hands on his hips.

“Don’t get too lost in your head, Hwa,” he says, humming. “I’m here.”

Seonghwa pulls him into a tight hug, almost lifting him off the ground. Hongjoong giggles, hugging him back. Of all the things he expected, it wasn’t that Hongjoong would come to visit him. It’s like his entire world shrunk to see one incredible, beautiful and talented individual right in front of him.

He let Hongjoong go, but kept his hands around the shorter, keeping him close. Hongjoong merely gives him a soft smile, looking up at him.

“I didn’t tell you we’d be coming because I wanted it to be a surprise. You did amazing, love,” he praises, leaning up to peck Seonghwa’s cheek. “I’m so proud of you. Even if you didn’t get first.”

Seonghwa feels his heart swell, and he raises one hand to cup Hongjoong’s cheek.

“I don’t need to win,” he says quietly, seeing Hongjoong’s face distort in confusion. “I don’t need to win because I have you. You’re worth so much more than any amount of medals and accolades.”

Under his palm, Hongjoong’s face heat ups. There’s a pink flush on his cheeks as he gets flustered. But he doesn’t say anything, merely placing a hand over Seonghwa’s.

Seonghwa pulls him in for a sweet, simple kiss.

He doesn’t need anything but Hongjoong.

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you enjoyed reading it!


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